


A Piece of Cake

by seori



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baking, F/M, Harry Potter Next Generation, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 17:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9773405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seori/pseuds/seori
Summary: Rose runs a bakery in Diagon Alley along with her cousin Molly. Scorpius drops by (again, and again, and again).





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks go to Lisa because I rang up some massive debts on our friendship account over the course of my writing this fic, and thanks also to Kyp, who also suffered!
> 
> Warning that I am not a baker, and whilst I tried to make it accurate, I am sure that errors crept in.

Life in the Flour Power bakery had fallen into a routine of sorts. At five in the morning, Rose would stumble out of bed, downstairs to the kitchen, and clean every inch of work surface. Molly would join her at 5.15, and the kitchen would be veritably humming with charms as the two witches prepared ingredients for the day.

By 6.30, they would stop for breakfast, yawning through their second cups of coffee, Rose spreading jam on her slice of toast. 

The actual baking would begin in earnest soon after. Rose would head to the front of the shop at 8.30, the first few platters following behind like little ducklings. They settled into place on the counter with a flick of her wand.

At 8.35, Scorpius Malfoy would make an appearance.

"Morning, Malfoy," she greeted, sipping from her chipped mug. It had seen better days, but her Uncle Harry had gifted her with it when she'd first started working. She couldn't bring herself to get rid of it, even if it did have 'Crumbs!' writ large on one side. Usually, she wouldn't drink in front of a customer, but she'd given up standing on ceremony for her old year-mate months ago. He'd made it clear he didn't expect it, and it was too early in the day to deny herself coffee. "What do you fancy today?"

He stepped up to the counter, leaning his elbows on the polished top, face lit with amusement. His scarf, a knitted affair which her own grandmother might have produced, hung loosely around his shoulders. If she were in the habit of noticing such things (she wasn't), she might have thought it picked out nice tones in his grey eyes. "Weasley. Have to say, this is a better greeting than I received on Friday."

The last of this was directed over her shoulder to Molly; Rose turned and raised an eyebrow at her cousin, busy setting out the first of the day's biscuits.

"You asked after your favourite red tart," Molly retorted, not bothering to look up. Despite the irritation in her voice, the biscuit rows were as neat and precise as ever. "You're lucky I didn't hex you into next week. Rosie, I'll be out back."

"Took an hour for my tongue to unstick from the roof of my mouth," Scorpius confided in a low tone, though there was something about his upturned lips that suggested he wasn't that bothered by it.

The confidential note to his voice, the tilt to his head, conspired to give the illusion of intimacy. Rose swallowed hard, and backed off. "You should have told her you meant the strawberry," she reprimanded, using a cloth to wipe the work surface for no reason other than to give her hands a purpose.

"Where were you on Friday?" Scorpius asked, not moving from his position.

Her face heated at the memory, and she ducked her head, smoothing down the front of her apron in an attempt to justify the movement. "We're trying these new Cheering Charms in cupcakes, but I must have overdone the spellwork. Couldn't stop giggling, so Molly had to take my shift out front."

"Should have fed them to Molly; she might have cracked a smile."

Rose had to bite back a smile of her own at that. It was true, Molly didn't like the front-facing part of the bakery all that much. "If you didn't goad her, you'd find her merry enough. Most people do. Okay, Malfoy, what's it going to be?"

"I could use a little Monday morning cheer if you have any of those cupcakes going," Scorpius suggested.

"They're not officially out for sale yet," Rose deliberated as the tintinnabulation of the shop bell sounded again, signalling their second customer. "I'd have to make you sign a disclaimer, and your co-workers won't thank me either if I've overdone it again."

He grinned down at her, finally stepping back from the counter to allow Mrs. Allen to pay for her four pains au chocolat. "I'll deal with my co-workers, Weasley. Hand me my cheer."

"It's a Sickle extra for anything that isn't on the shelf," Molly said primly, re-entering to present Scorpius with the disclaimer. "Pay up and go, Malfoy. You'll put people off their breakfast." At times like this, Rose wished she'd never come up with the idea of the intercom, which allowed the person in the backroom to take orders from the front. 

Scorpius signed the disclaimer with a flourish, without taking time to examine its contents. Rose's mouth twitched, and she slipped a pistachio twist into the bag with his cupcake. "Kind of you to sign over your possessions to us in the event of sudden death," she commented lightly, holding out the bag. "Most people take that clause out."

"I like to live dangerously where baked goods are concerned," he replied, winking at her. "That's why I let Miss Molly serve me. Suspecting that she might poison me one day livens up my mornings. Here - no, keep the change. Put it towards a batch of Silencing Cookies. You can call them 'Silence is Golden', and test them on your cousin."

If Molly hadn't placed a blanket ban on swearing in the shop (a result of Rose's early tendency to burn herself taking things out of the oven), she likely would have turned the air blue at that point. Instead, they both watched him leave, at which point Molly started fumbling through her pockets. "Merlin, I swore I had one of Uncle George's Ton-Tongue toffee reversals on me." 

Alarmed, Rose finally looked away from the door. "What - he hasn't snuck any more in, has he?"

"I didn't think so until I saw your tongue hanging on the counter just then."

Rose swatted at Molly's shoulder. "Oh, go bake some bread."

Molly flashed her a grin, and disappeared.

\--

"Having my toes nibbled by Jarveys. Moaning Myrtle haunting my bedroom. Diagon Alley on a Saturday afternoon. In August."

Rose glanced at her cousin, pausing with her fist raised mid-air in front of Albus's serpentine knocker (one of James's acquisitions, since he persisted with House rivalries long after everybody else had ceased to care). "Do I want to ask what you're doing?"

"Listing things which are worse than Al's cooking," Molly replied promptly, folding her arms in front of her chest. 

Her reluctance wasn't unwarranted; last time they'd gone to Albus's for dinner, they had been forced to close the bakery the following day. The scent of vomit had permeated their flat for another two days after that. Even so. That had been some time ago. He'd probably improved.

Probably.

Molly's eyes fixed on Rose's hand, still poised to knock. Sensing weakness, she began to talk rapid-fire, bringing up the orders they wouldn't be able to fulfil if they fell ill. Her argument was persuasive if a little dry, drawing on her father's teachings.

"That's true," Rose said after Molly advised it was unlikely that Albus would manage to provide an edible meal in a decade, let alone in two years. After all, he had once succeeded in setting rice on fire.

She knocked anyway.

"I'm here against my will," Molly announced to Albus's startled face on the other side. "We brought alcohol. And bread. I suggest that's all we consume this evening."

Molly pushed past Albus, who shook his head at her. "You told her she didn't have to come, right?" he asked Rose, drawing her into a hug.

Rose shook her head once he'd released her, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "Actually, I told her that I had no intention of suffering on my own, and pulled the older cousin card." She handed the bottle of McLaird's Magic Rum over, freeing up her hands so she could remove her coat.

"Why does that only work with you and Victoire?" 

She smirked at Albus in response, turning to hang her coat on the hooks by his front door. "Merlin, Al, how much are St Mungo's paying you? This a new cloak?"

"Not mine," he answered over his shoulder, disappearing into the kitchen after Molly.

She stayed a moment longer, looking around his living room. It was a sign they were all growing up, she supposed. Enough time had passed since she'd last visited that the house literature was medical journals rather than topless magazines, and the place actually looked clean for once.

"Al, did-"

Rose paused in the entrance to the kitchen. She was unsurprised to see that Molly had seized control of the kitchen, but surprised to find that the owner of the cloak appeared to be Scorpius. She knew, logically, that he was friends with Albus, but she crossed Albus's path so little these days that they tended not to socialise with people outside the family.

"Did what?" Albus asked, wrestling his spatula off Molly. "Molly, how am I supposed to learn if you don't ever let me try?"

Undeterred, Molly used her wand to turn up the heat under one of the saucepans. "You're supposed to stick to what you're good at. Assuming you can find anything."

"I reckon he's intending to make us all sick, so that he can practise his healing skills on us," Scorpius advised in a low tone. 

Rose's lips quirked up in a smile, and she found the courage to pull out the seat opposite his. Somebody (Aunt Ginny) had even invested in a tablecloth, a blue striped affair with no questionable puddles in sight. Times certainly were changing. "Last time, I fed him for a week straight, once we'd all managed to stop hugging our respective toilets. I think he's after more free food."

"You're all ungrateful bastards," Albus announced loudly, disarming Molly and forcing her into a seat. "Good golly, Miss Molly, you're hard work today. Did Rosie piss in your cereal this morning?"

Despite knowing it was a joke, Rose couldn't help but turn red at that, but it seemed to do the trick with Molly, who laughed openly. Perhaps she'd satisfied herself that food poisoning was unlikely. "Rum time!" she announced, seizing Rose's wand from her back pocket and summoning four glasses. "How much rum does it take for you to be likeable, Malfoy?"

Rose winced, but Scorpius didn't appear to take offence. "Don't think anybody's managed it yet, Weasley."

"Sounds like a challenge!" Molly enthused, pouring out four even measures.

\--

It was some relief to find Albus's food was overcooked if anything. The chicken was a little tough, and grey vegetables turned to mush under Rose's utensils. The food at least helped combat the frequency of Molly's refills - Rose had taken to covering the top of her glass with her hand.

"Which of you two reprobates is opening tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with any reprobates, so I couldn't tell you," Rose answered with a grin, mashing what may have been aubergine in a previous life onto her fork. In truth, they weren't opening until noon the following day, but Rose already felt uneasy enough about any disappointed customers without discussing it further. "How did the cupcake go down? Have we been blacklisted from your work?"

Scorpius laughed, and she noted that he was pushing the chicken around on his plate without actually eating any. "No, my - er, my clients found it very amusing."

"Your _clients_?" she asked, setting her knife and fork down together on the plate. She loved Albus, really, she did, but enough was enough. Thank Merlin they'd brought their own bread. She tore off a piece, mulling over what precious little she knew about Scorpius other than his pastry preferences, even though she saw him most days. "Say, what is it you do again?"

"I know!" Molly broke in, also having abandoned the meal in favour of their seeded loaf. "You're a banker, aren't you, Malfoy?"

His face, which had been oddly guarded for a moment, relaxed as he laughed. "Is that cockney rhyming slang?"

Albus, who always took things too far, offered his own input from years in the Slytherin dormitories, and that was that.

Barely edible food was replaced by wine and the kitchen by the living room, at which point even James made an appearance as if, well, by magic. Rose wouldn't put it past him to have set up a charm to let him know when the kitchen was vacant, thus saving him from Albus's culinary skills or lack thereof.

She watched her cousins bicker on the other sofa. It was more than likely they were debating the healing properties of certain potions _again_ , and she felt an inexplicable fondness steal through her.

"You might be one of the few people made quieter by a few drinks."

A grin quirked her lips, and she cradled her glass in her hands, leaning against the arm of the sofa so that Scorpius wasn't quite so overwhelmingly close. "I'm tired," she confessed in a low tone, suppressing a yawn at the articulation. "But I never see Al anymore, not since he started his rotation in Spell Damage."

Scorpius was silent a moment, his elbow coming to rest on the back of the couch, bringing his arm within a hair's breadth of hers. "Sounds like you might be in need of some caffeine. I make a mean cup of tea."

"Ah, but I only like pleasant cups," Rose replied, and something turned over in her stomach at his answering smile. "I shouldn't, anyway. I try not to drink tea after four in the afternoon - otherwise I'm tossing and turning all night."

She probably imagined the flicker in his eyes at that. He managed to say, "Well, we couldn't have that," in the sort of way that made her wish she hadn't brought up her bedroom habits at all, before they were both pelted with cushions from the other sofa. Aunt Ginny had a lot to answer for, fitting this flat with missiles, soft though they might be.

\--

The next morning brought Rose a mild headache, and the sound of voices in her living room. She pulled herself up in bed, using one of her pillows to cushion her head against the wall. Idly, she wished for a pair of Uncle George's Extendable Ears to satisfy her curiosity without the need for movement. 

Abruptly, things went silent, and Rose smiled, having solved the problem. Uncle Percy would be the early morning (though rather late by their usual standards) visitor. Things had evidently escalated between him and his eldest into what, for them, passed as a shouting match.

She waited for ten minutes, sipping and refilling her water, and determined that either the coast would be clear, or she'd need to assist in disposing of a body.

Fortunately, it was the former, and Molly was glowering into her mug, seated in the fantastically ugly armchair which Rose loved and hated by turns. Uncle George had gifted it to them and, as was common with Uncle George, Rose wasn't quite sure whether it was intended to be a joke or not. She flopped into their other chair, a more sedate offering from their grandmother. It was a little dilapidated, but Rose adored it all the same.

"I suppose it would be too much to wish you a good morning?" Rose ventured, switching the kettle on with a flick of her wand. "Was Uncle Percy here earlier?"

Molly started. "I - we didn't wake you, did we? I thought I cast a silencing charm."

"No, you did," Rose assured her, attention focused on floating a mug out of the cupboard. "That's why I figured it must be him. Nobody else with access to our Floo makes you cross like that. Ugh." She let her head fall back against the worn cushioned chair. "I wish I didn't have to get up to make tea."

"I'll do it," Molly offered, making Rose's head snap back up. Molly _never_ offered to make tea, though she did look rather more bright-eyed than Rose felt. "You'll have to do the pasties today, though," she called over her shoulder.

There it was. Proof, if proof were needed, that this wasn't a Polyjuiced Molly.

"You looked awfully cosy last night with Malfoy last night," Molly noted, passing a steaming mug of tea over. "I hope he's not trying to get a discount."

With an effort, Rose ignored her, though the image of Scorpius leaning closer played out in her head.

"Right, time for me to get started," she announced, doing her best to look as though she were unaffected by Molly's cackles.

\--

If Rose thought about it, she was lucky that her - whatever it was - with Scorpius had stayed secret for so long, if she discounted Molly's comments. Or, perhaps, the truth was that there had not been much to talk about until Albus's dinner. Finally, tentative wondering had bubbled over, and he had occupied her mind through much of the morning. It was fine through the monotony of assembling pasties, and kneading bread gave her much needed relief. She usually sought respite in the course of the day through dealing with customers. As Molly was the face of the company that day, Rose was forced to turn her (in)attention to their commissions.

It was usually an area she excelled in, but today, nothing would work for her. The broomsticks wouldn't levitate properly, and the Quaffle refused to hover by the goalposts, instead looping around the grounded Seeker.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she muttered as her Bludger sank into the soft icing.

"Looks like Quidditch to me, actually."

Her stomach twisted as she recognised Albus's voice, but she kept her eyes trained on the cake, as she shaped the referee's hair into Albus's untidy mop.

Not one to be discouraged, Albus appeared by her side, nudging her gently (though it failed to make any sort of discernible impact on the referee's coiffure). "Show off."

"Just because I'm putting more effort into this than you do into styling your own hair," Rose teased, stepping back from the cake. The goalposts drooped. She muffled a groan into her hands, pressing her fingers into her eyelids. "This cake is going to be the death of me."

Albus's cool fingertips touched her forehead, and then he tugged her hands down, peering into her eyes. "Hmm. Yes, as I suspected. You need a tea break. Healer's orders!"

Even though she knew his angle, she allowed herself to smile as he steered her to the stools at the very rear of the kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the artificial window (which had been installed at Molly's insistence). Then, she took note of the empty tabletop, and something clicked. "Al..."

"Quiet, Weasley," Albus said, and it was too late to prevent a potential disaster. His wand was trained on the open door leading up to their living quarters, and... down sailed the teapot with two clinking mugs, landing in front of Rose.

Impressed by his steady hand, Rose lifted the lid to find it had already been filled with water and teabags. Clearly, he'd been in through their Floo. "No saucers?" she asked, taking care to think only of that day's carton of milk when she Summoned from the fridge - in those early days, thinking 'milk' had supplied them with the bakery's entire supply.

"Seems you're saucy enough, Rosie Posie," Albus said without malice, snatching two biscuits which had been cooling on the side. "Now, dearest - er, dearest cousin who isn't Molly, we need to talk about Scorpius Malfoy."

"We really, really don't," Rose declared, pouring herself tea before he had a chance to reclaim the pot. She waved her wand to check the timer on the oven and, satisfied, pulled her most innocent face. "What? You shouldn't invite dinner guests if you're only going to gossip about them afterwards."

She was saved from further interrogation when the intercom flickered to life, and Molly's clear tones filtered into the room. "Malfoy, didn't I see enough of your face last night? Am I being punished for taking a morning off?"

"Why is Scor _here_?" Albus hissed, and Rose didn't bother to tell him there was no need to lower his voice since the intercom only went one way. "Rosie, are you-?"

"He stops off in the shop on his way to work sometimes, that's all," she replied as casually as she could, because the door was opening, and she had only to look at Albus's face to see that it wasn't Molly on the other side.

Scorpius's tread across the floor was cautious, and then quicker as he registered Rose's companion. Rose forced herself not to turn until the last minute, trying to keep control of her features - this was silly. She saw Scorpius all the time. They talked with Molly listening in all the time. Surely Albus would be no different.

"Finally stirred, did you?" Albus said with a grin, getting off his stool long enough to duplicate it and offer Scorpius the copy. "You were dead to the world when I left."

"You're joking if you think I'm sitting on that," Scorpius retorted, determinedly not looking at Rose - or that was how it felt. "Think I still have splinters from the last time you tried that spell."

Albus let out a bark of laughter and stood, stretching out his long frame. "Okay, Scor, you win. I'd better be off, anyway. Rose and I were talking about your commute to work - but we covered it all, don't you think, Rosie? Not that there was all that much ground to cover in the first place. Right, Scor?"

It was possible training to be a Healer had sent Albus stark raving mad. Rose waved her cousin off as Scorpius sat in his place, interested in the way that Scorpius had turned a fetching shade of pink.

"What brings you backstage?" Rose enquired, grateful that Albus's tea gave her something with which she could occupy her hands.

The question seemed to settle him, as she'd hoped it might. He grinned at her, a cocky edge to it now he'd relaxed. "I thought you might be in need of some lunch you hadn't had to cook - or a reminder of actual food after Albus's efforts."

Scorpius's offerings consisted of what seemed to be a home-made pasta salad, complete with what was definitely one of the Potter boys' forks.

"It was all I could scrounge up from Al's kitchen," Scorpius explained, looking a little bashful as Rose stared on. "I was too drunk to Apparate last night, and I thought I'd duck my head in and offer you some before I headed on home."

"I - thank you." 

She still wasn't quite able to take it in, but luckily, one of her oven alarms saved the day. "Sausage rolls," she explained weakly, rising to check the batch. She covered most of them and sent them through to Molly with a Hover Charm, and kept one aside for Scorpius.

"This one's a dud," she said in an attempt at nonchalance. "You might as well have it."

Rose hadn't quite carried it off if she read the amusement in his eyes correctly, but he didn't call her out on it, at least. Her stomach grumbled as she reclaimed her seat, and anything sensible that they might have been able to converse about abruptly left her head. Still, at least eating precluded conversation (for most people - Hugo being the exception that proved the rule). She dug the fork in, trying her best to mind her bites. Pasta was not exactly the easiest food to eat in front of somebody she wanted to... impress.

"Dud or not, this is the best sausage roll I've ever had," Scorpius mumbled thickly, hardly waiting for his mouth to be clear of food before speaking. "Merlin, I wish I could come here for lunch. You'd never be rid of me."

She flushed with pleasure, realising this was the first time in a long time that she'd seen Scorpius eat anything she'd prepared. When he'd first started visiting the bakery, he'd often request samples. Then, of course, Molly had told him that there was no point sampling since he would unfailingly order whatever he'd tried. "Where do you work, then? I've been talking with Molly about expanding the business, maybe doing some owl deliveries, but she doesn't seem all that keen, if I'm honest."

"Madness."

Scorpius stood, brushing the pastry flakes from his fingers, and probably wiping his hands on his trousers, too (boys). Rose followed his progress around the room, wincing as he settled on the unfinished cake.

"It's a work in progress," she protested, abandoning lunch in favour of defending her abilities. 

"Your goalposts are wilting," Scorpius observed, pushing his sleeves up. With an effort, Rose turned her eyes away from the expanse of forearm revealed, and fixed her eyes on the offending posts. "I happen to be something of an expert in this area - er, you know. Arts and Crafts, not, er. Bugger."

In vain, Rose tried to suppress her giggles, but even with her fingers pressed against her mouth, they bubbled to her lips. His hands were still braced against the counter top, but he let out a snort, the tips of his ears very pink indeed.

When she'd regained some modicum of control over herself, she cleared her throat. "Right. Show me your Arts and Crafts expertise, Malfoy."

"Scorpius," he answered, crouching down so the posts were level with his eye-line. "If you're going to laugh at my knack with wilting goalposts, we should be on first name terms."

\--

Monday morning started in the usual fashion. More or less. The way her stomach leapt at the sight of Scorpius was new, and the conspiratorial smiles he shared with her were new, too. Rose wasn't sure how he could look as though there was a secret only the two of them were in on, but she did know - quite unexpectedly - how much she liked it. She let their fingers brush as she handed him his morning croissant in a box, with a sausage roll discreetly included for good measure.

"You're disgusting," Molly sighed after he'd left, securing a loose piece of hair with a pin. "Aunt Luna!"

"Morning, girls," Luna said serenely, seeming to float into the shop. It was rare to find their pseudo-aunt outside of Devon since the twins had been born, though they saw her frequently enough when they visited the Burrow. "Who is disgusting?"

"Rose," Molly informed her, before Rose could get a word in. "It looks as though Scorpius Malfoy has given her an infestation of Wrackspurts. What do you think?"

Busy glaring at Molly, Rose was taken aback when Luna caught her chin with cool, long fingers. Her aunt gave her an assessing look, luminous eyes alight with curiosity. "I think you're safe, dear. You mustn't worry about Scorpius; I always make sure the boys have sufficient charms in their classes. It really optimises their learning capacities."

Molly caught onto it sooner than Rose. "Aunt Luna, are you saying Scorpius teaches the twins?"

"Perhaps Rose has passed this infestation onto you?" Luna suggested in her airy, inoffensive way. Rose was reasonably sure the dangling necklace was made out of Lionfish spines; she'd helped her mother with enough Herbicide potions to recognise the thin pieces of bone with ease. "I'd be happy to make a few siphons for the two of you."

Her innocuous tone did no good; Rose could see Molly swelling with anger out of the corner of her eye. She felt sluggish herself, somehow unable to process the information. Scorpius definitely didn't _live_ nearby or he wouldn't have had to sleep at Al's. Something had him travelling a couple of hundred miles there and back again before each work day. 

Was it her? Did he pick something up before class? Possibilities raced through her mind, each of them unsatisfying.

Now was not the time to consider them, though. "May I help you with anything, Aunt Luna?"

She tried to push away thoughts of Scorpius as Luna explained her intended day-trip with Uncle Rolf, and subsequent need for a picnic basket. It was flattering that Luna had thought of their little bakery for sustenance, but Rose thought it rather likely that their intrepid Suffolk explorer was hallucinating whatever creature he claimed to have seen.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Molly asked as the door closed behind Luna and her very full basket. Rose suspected they would be searching for a while, so at least neither should go hungry even if they did lay out some of the food as bait as was their wont.

"I don't think so," Rose said carefully. It didn't seem to be bad, exactly, but she wasn't sure what to make of it, and Molly had a habit of settling her opinions excessively quickly.

Not talking about it didn't clear it from Rose's mind, unfortunately. Molly pushed her to the back when it was obvious she wasn't fit to be in front of customers. Even so, he was there when she checked the proofing oven, and there as she iced her cupcakes, and definitely there when his owl arrived.

Molly beckoned her through, sporting several bite marks over her hands. "Tried to shoo it - figures Malfoy would instruct it to attack me," she said grimly, reaching for their jar of murtlap essence. "Go on, read it out. Bet it says, 'Dearest Rose, loveliest of all the thorny Weasley family, here is my explanation for choosing a bakery one hundred and fifty miles away from my daily life. Smooches, Scorpius.'"

Despite herself, Rose grinned as she unfolded the letter. "Close." 

_Rose,_

_Thanks for lunch. Dinner on me?_

_Scorpius_

Molly whistled, reading over Rose's shoulder. "Do it. Make him take you to that fancy French place in Hogsmeade... what? He obviously doesn't mind travelling long distances. Come on, make your mind up - I want that mass of beak and talons out of here pronto."

Rose grabbed a pen from the counter, and scrawled, _See you at 6_ on the back of his note before handing it to the imperious owl. She'd have to play catch-up in the bakery the following day, but it would be better to meet early.

"What are you going to wear?" Molly enquired, good humour restored with the departure of their feathered companion. "Wizarding or Muggle? Dress up or dress down? Goodness, what will you do with your _hair_?"

The enormity of everything swept over Rose, leaving her feeling dizzy. A date. This would count as a date, even if their impromptu lunch didn't. Her stomach tightened, thinking of the clever little charms he'd shown her to keep all the Quidditch pieces separate. Of course, of course he was good at sorting out somebody else's creative mess if he was a primary school teacher.

"Your face," Molly crowed, only silenced as the top drawer of their wrappings section smacked harmlessly into her middle. "Bugger, _Rose_!"

"Sorry," Rose said, borrowing some of Luna's serenity. "Turns out that's not the drawer I wanted after all." 

\--

Six o'clock arrived, and in the last few minutes, Rose's chest cavity had shrunk so that she was managing only shallow breaths. She swept her hair out of her eyes, and pondered whether she should wait upstairs, or if this studied air of nonchalance out front worked better for her.

"It's no good - I can see the sweat dripping down the back of your neck."

"Imagine if I spelled your mouth shut."

Scorpius appeared as Molly was spluttering her intention to owl their entire family with Rose's evening plans. Rose tuned this out with some difficulty, hoping Molly didn't follow through. Merlin knew she'd start with Rose's father, and then the concern faded as Scorpius extended his arm.

She'd gone for Muggle clothes on a whim, thinking that was how he saw her most days. Also, it was easier to look like she hadn't tried too hard, if this turned out to be a friendly sort of dinner. Thankfully, he was dressed to match, with another of those handmade scarves round his neck. Probably, Rose realised now, a gift from a grateful parent. Magical primary schools weren't exactly the easiest places to be.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with my note," Scorpius was saying. It was only then that Rose found they were halfway down Diagon Alley, and he'd brought her to a complete stop.

"You - you didn't," she managed, wondering how she could have messed things up within five minutes. Molly was going to have a field day, not to mention Albus.

His eyes crinkled, and he tugged their linked arms to pull her out of the influx of late-night shoppers down the street. She knew without looking that she was up against Scribbulus's glass front, and hoped against hope that Aunt Ginny wasn't inside, buying her usual gallon of ink. "You can understand how charging off in the wrong direction might have given me the wrong impression, even if you did drag me along with you."

Humiliation swelled within her, flushing her cheeks and leaving her mildly nauseated. Great. 

This was ridiculous. She'd been sorted into Gryffindor for a reason, for Merlin's sake. Scorpius had asked her on a date - apparently travelled a great distance to see her every weekday. She was _fine_. "Sorry. It - it's been a while since I've been on a date. I guess I'm a little nervous."

"What made you think this was a date?"

Rose stared at him, slack-jawed, until she realised that something about the set of his mouth reminded her of Albus when he was trying not to laugh. "Oh, if that's the case, you won't mind me fetching Molly. I'm sure she wouldn't take the opportunity to practise her favourite hexes, and I definitely wouldn't encourage her."

Scorpius held his hands up in surrender, no longer bothering to suppress his grin. "Well played. Now, I've booked a table, if you're content to leave our promenade of Diagon here?"

"I suppose I can finish the rest of it another day," she allowed, this time letting him lead the way. For a moment, she thought she saw her mother disappearing into the bakery, but Scorpius was mimicking Albus with such an uncanny knack that she couldn't help but laugh. Then, he directed them into Soshe Alley, and she forgot all about it.

\--

"I don't mean to be rude-"

"It sounds like you're going to manage it anyway."

"-but I thought this was a dead end."

Scorpius caught her hand with his, and her nerves fizzed to life once again as he stepped behind her, extending her fingertips to sketch a 'Z' on the brickwork. "This is my aunt's place." A rush of cold wind flooded Rose's back once more as he moved away, but she focused her attention on the materialising restaurant. This must be Blazes - fuck, she was most definitely underdressed.

Instead of taking her in the front entrance, however, he threaded his fingers through hers, and led her around the side. He had the air of someone well-accustomed to this place, but she was beginning to suspect that was Scorpius's general demeanour.

"They tend not to use the garden in the cold weather. I know it's a little showy, but it's quiet, and my warming charms aren't bad. My aunt said we could have pizza, but only if we were well away from her other customers."

It startled a laugh from her, and she relaxed. There was a table already set up in the courtyard, beside the (frankly ridiculous) fountain. White roses bloomed around the trellises, and she was pretty sure that was a Flitterby net. Not the time for investigating, though. 

Finding that somebody had already set up thermal charms, she shrugged her coat off, feeling awkward as she took one of the seats.

The tension didn't last long as Scorpius slid into his own chair, and persuaded her to talk about her day, "with as many tales of Miss Molly having flour dumped on her as you please". It reminded her of the time she'd been working well into the night trying to perfect their pain au chocolat recipe. Molly had come down the stairs in the morning to find Rose covered in--

"Sorry to interrupt." Rose looked up to find a tall blonde, who looked more like she'd be more likely to own the place than wait tables there. Nevertheless, a pizza and two glasses hovering by her side. Her dress robes glittered in the sort of way that suggested a charm - idly, Rose wondered if it would be something she could mimic for one of her cakes.

"Gosh, don't tell me winter ruins all your service spells, Aunt Daphne," Scorpius teased, standing to kiss his aunt on the cheek. Rose started to get to her feet, but Daphne waved a dismissive hand at her.

"Wretched child - I see this is the thanks your poor old aunt gets for doing you a favour." The pizza wiggled into place to encompass the entirety of their tabletop, and a small drinks table glided between Rose and Scorpius.

It wasn't that Rose was impressed, exactly. Her parents took her to nice restaurants, but they preferred the homely touch, as Rose herself did. Somewhere siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles could all pile together, and do their best to drown out one another. It was usually the Burrow. Blazes was, to pardon the pun, hot property. Nobody got in without an invitation - and the reputed clientele wasn't exactly the sort to welcome the Weasley rabble, even these days.

Scorpius, however, seemed very much at home here, grinning at Daphne with his arms stretched out and hands braced behind his head. "Oh, less of the 'poor'. Mum says you're about to set up a nightclub."

"Your mother talks too much." Daphne paused, her eyes sweeping over Rose, who felt exceptionally conscious of her jeans. "Do let me know if he gives you any trouble, Miss Weasley. I should be only too happy to help."

With that, she exited, and Rose took a steadying breath.

"Well."

"Don't mind Aunt Daphne; she loves to stick her nose in, but she's all right, really. I think that's fairy wine, so pace yourself, or the Gillywater's pretty good - what?"

She started, blinking down at the pizza, which appeared to have divided itself into sections of meat and vegetarian options. "Nothing - she's a little intimidating, that's all."

His feet nudged hers under the table, and there was a definite grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Right. And there's nobody like that in your family." He tore off a section of crust, shredding it into smaller sections as he spoke. "You know, she's made a good go of this place. She got a heap of money from a divorce settlement, and her ex told her she was welcome to keep his name. She bought this with the proceeds and basically named it after him. Calls it her second husband, says at least she expects to catch this one in flagrante. Don't think it amuses my dad too much, but Mum loves it."

Rose snorted, the aloof Aunt Daphne appealing to her more now. She considered that she would likely feel more comfortable if she didn't feel as though she were tiptoeing around the subject of his job, and so tried a casual opening. "I actually saw one of my aunts today - Luna Lovegood? She'd travelled all the way up from the West Country just to come to our little bakery; can you imagine?"

Scorpius gaped at her for a moment, a slice of pizza drooping in his fingers, and then he discarded it altogether to cover his face with his hands. "Shit. Who told you?"

This was more pleasing than she'd anticipated, having wondered if there might be a logical explanation for everything. "Aunt Luna mentioned that you teach the boys, and after Al's, you had to stay over, so…"

"I knew that pasta was going to get me into trouble," Scorpius groaned, now slumped in his chair with a hand flung over his eyes.

"I mean, it's not so bad, is it?" she asked, letting their feet tangle together. He moved his fingers apart a fraction so he could peer through them. "For me, that is. It's pretty bad for you. Molly already knows, and I assume Al and James do, and I could call your aunt back - do you think she'll come outside if I wave?"

Rose made a show of looking around, and was caught off guard when Scorpius leaned across to capture her hand in his. He laced their fingers together underneath the tabletop, and picked up his discarded slice. "No fuss from you, Miss Weasley. I can see you can't be trusted with your hand, so I'll take care of it for you."

"Right. Out of the two of us, _I'm_ the one who can't be trusted."

"I'm glad we are in agreement."

She shook her head, amused, and they ate in silence for a time.

"Okay, you've wrestled it out of me. I was staying with Aunt Daphne over the holidays, and I happened upon your bakery, and I always had a bit of a thing for you in school, but I thought Al wouldn't like it, so I tried to forget about it. Then, that first morning, you were so…" He gestured with his free hand, tugging her arm as he sat back in his seat. "I don't know. Bright eyed and bushy-tailed. So, I came back, and then I didn't stop when term started, which was stupid, but there you have it. I didn't even think anything would come of it, until Al's the other night."

Even in the dim lighting, Rose could see his cheeks were positively scarlet. She squeezed his fingertips, trying to commit it all to memory so she could mull it over later, mostly likely over tomorrow's coffee. "Well, I'm glad we both took leave of our senses and decided to give Al's culinary skills another shot, however mistaken we might have been in thinking he might improve."

"No, I was there for the alcohol," Scorpius corrected, smirking over his wine glass. "I brave sickness and injury on a daily basis at my work; I don't need to court danger on my weekends, too."

"You work in a _primary school_."

Scorpius nodded as though she were agreeing with him. "Exactly. Breeding grounds of disease and mayhem, and that's before you factor in accidental magic. Last week, one of my pupils forgot his homework, and made such a fuss that he set my desk on fire. And I laughed, of course, because your cupcake let me see the lighter side, and he cried and I spent the rest of the day with a rain cloud above my desk."

Although his tone was flippant, his eyes were soft, and Rose's heart twisted at the thought of getting to know _this_ Scorpius, the one who had painstakingly restored her Quidditch pitch, and probably did much the same thing in Devon on a daily basis. 

Aiming to match honesty with honesty, she wiped her free hand on a napkin, and sat back in her chair, thinking. "The cupcakes are the sort of thing I always wanted to do," she said slowly, watching as the remnants of the meal dissolved into nothing. "I mean, I _like_ the other stuff, but the savoury parts are more Molly's domain than mine. I always liked the idea of mixing magic and baking - something a little more experimental than what we do now. We get some great commissions, sometimes, but she's not that keen on expanding that side of the business, and I just don't have the time to spare for all the requests we get."

He placed their entwined hands on the table, covering hers with his free one. "Could you find somebody else for the bakery? That would free up some of your time for the things you actually want to do."

"I guess. It's been the two of us for so long, though? We always planned to do it this way - we'd cook every day of the holidays when we were younger. I set up an owl-order business initially, until she finished Hogwarts, and we could get somewhere of our own. I can't picture anybody else in our set-up. It wouldn't feel right."

Scorpius made a quiet sound of agreement, and Rose found herself staring at his mouth. Hesitantly, moving so she couldn't mistake his intent, he reached for her jaw, cupping it in his hand, leaning in until--

"I do hope everything was to your liking."

Until his aunt reappeared.

Wonderful. 

Scorpius drew back immediately, reluctance clear on his face for a moment, before he beamed up at his aunt. "Probably the best meal I've had here, actually."

Daphne swatted at his head without heat. "Oh, go off with you. I'll need a full written apology if you plan to set foot in this place again."

"Of course," Scorpius said grandly, getting to his feet and standing behind Rose's chair. "I sincerely apologise for enjoying the meal; I will endeavour to be miserable next time, and make sure that your clientele are fully apprised of my mood."

"I don't know how you can put up with him," Daphne told Rose, but her exasperated tone seemed fabricated, so Rose aimed for non-committal instead of apologetic.

"Bet Mum asked her to play chaperone," Scorpius said, once they were back on Diagon and out of earshot. "Though I guess she could have been amusing herself."

"Molly should have cleaned up by now," Rose suggested, as the bakery came into sight. She didn't much fancy their first kiss being on the cobbles.

She was intensely, ridiculously aware of his presence by her side in those last few yards. They weren't holding hands this time, but every bump of his arm against hers gave her a delicious shiver down her spine. His eyes were full of promise as she fumbled with the unlocking spells, and they tumbled through the door together.

But something wasn't quite right, and she blinked around at the unexpectedly bright shopfront. Her mother and Molly were cocooned in armchairs Hermione had probably transfigured out of dust. They looked like they wouldn't be moved for anything - or anyone.

"Er, Mum, this is - Scorpius. Scorpius, this, well."

Scorpius's eyes were fixed on Molly. Abruptly, he turned to Rose. "Look, I should be on my way. It's later than I thought, and I still have a few things I need to prepare for tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning."

He squeezed her hand and left, the shop bell tinkling in his wake. 

Disappointment plummeted into Rose's stomach, her few fluttering nerves dissipated.

"Rosie, I think it's best if I leave you girls to talk, but if you need me, just Floo." Then her mother was leaving too, and Rose wasn't quite able to process what had happened in the space of a few minutes.

"You should probably sit," Molly said thickly.

"Is somebody sick?"

"No, I - it's - oh, bugger." Molly's eyes were red-rimmed and this, more than anything, added to Rose's climbing sense of panic. Molly always prided herself on not shedding tears. "I'm - I got a job as a potions apprentice. I'm going to leave the bakery."

It felt like a joke, like it couldn't be real after the wonderful evening she'd just had, but one look at Molly told her otherwise. She sank into her mother's vacated chair, and pulled her knees up to her chest. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't. "I - when?"

"It's supposed to be two weeks - but Dad told them I'd need another month to sort my affairs out. I don't want to leave you in the lurch. I'm so, so sorry, Rosie. I didn't know how to tell you."

Of course Uncle Percy was involved. Rose pressed her forehead against her denim-covered knees, grateful for the respite from the bright lights and Molly's distressed face. "And Mum?" she asked, voice muffled.

"The Ministry uses Slug & Jiggers. She found out, and figured I hadn't told you, so she - well, she said either I told you, or she would. Look, I guess I realised I didn't want to do this for the rest of my life. I didn't expect it to snowball like this. Dad said I could have a look at a few places, but he must have pulled some strings, because I got _offers_ , and suddenly I had a job and a start date, but no idea how to tell you."

"I appreciate it must have been very difficult for you," Rose said sourly, unable to stop herself thinking that Molly would never have got so far so quickly if it hadn't been for Rose's own family. Molly's family pushed, Rose's enabled.

But that was ridiculous. Rose never would have been able to set up a bakery out of school without her family's influence and help, every last Weasley, and she couldn't have kept it going without Molly. Couldn't keep it going without Molly?

"Well, I'm sorry. I don't know what you want me to do now - I can keep helping out until I start, or I can move out entirely. It's up to you."

"Right." Suddenly, there wasn't anything Rose wanted more than to just be with her parents. It wasn't late - still before 8.30, thanks to mandatory early bedtimes for both herself and Scorpius. "I think..." She took a steadying breath, releasing her legs and sitting upright. She could deal with this. She just needed some space. "We should close tomorrow. Send an apology to the Boots, because their cake will have to wait a day, tell them - I don't care what you tell them. Just deal with everything. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Oh - okay." Molly's eyes were very large, as though she'd expected Rose to process everything immediately and move forward with an action plan. 

Action plans would have to wait. There was an ache in Rose's chest as she went up the stairs, trying not to wonder whether Molly would move out of their living quarters. It remained as she packed her bag and wrote off a hasty note to Scorpius, warning him that he would need to source his breakfast elsewhere and suggesting he try somewhere within his own county for once. It only eased slightly as she stepped out of the floo and into her mother's arms.

\--

The house was empty by the time she surfaced the following morning, having luxuriated in the lack of early wake-up call for once.

Rose braced her hands on the kitchen work surface, and sighed. She felt like making something, as though the familiar task would comfort her. Unfortunately, her parents' kitchen was poorly stocked for her purposes. She drummed a contemplative tattoo. There was really only one thing for it.

She hadn't called ahead to Nana Molly's, hadn't thought of anything but the comfort of the Burrow, but as she pushed open the door, she found somebody at least had anticipated this cause of action. The Burrow's kitchen was a thrumming hive of activity, and Rose felt the pull as soon as she stepped through the door.

"Come right through, Rosie, dear. You've arrived at the right time. Stir this, there's a love."

A bowl and wooden spoon were thrust unceremoniously into her hands, as Nana dusted flour over her table. 

"I can never get quite the same effect with magic, but I suppose you'd know better than me. I've got Teddy and Victoire coming for tea today, and they're going to bring little Madeleine. You're welcome to stay too, dear, we'll certainly have enough food."

Rose tipped the dough out onto the table, and Scourgified her hands. This was better; she felt as though there was no need for her to think here, almost as though she'd been relegated to Nana's Little Helper again. She began to knead the dough, feeling that little knot inside her begin to loosen as she did. "Dad told you what happened?"

Nana's eyes were kind, and she laid one of her hands on Rose's shoulder. "Audrey owled me. Seems they got Molly home this morning."

There wasn't a need to answer, so Rose focused on the ball in her hands, pressing it down, and letting her grandmother's chatter wash over her. At some point, she tuned back in, realising Nana was relating tales of her father's youth. "And you'd think that they would have waited for someone else to unlock the barrier, but that was your father and Uncle Harry all over."

Rose pushed the heels of both her hands into the dough, and sighed. "I should talk to her, shouldn't I?"

"Not before you're ready," Nana said, in her nice-but-firm way. "You'll do more harm than good. Did I ever tell you about the time your father insisted he was going to live as a Muggle? Bless him, he'd read far too many of those Mad Martin books, but he got so upset at your uncle Bill practising his charm work that he packed off a little suitcase, got in his toy car, and told us we wouldn't see him again. Turned back at the end of the drive, of course. Hadn't packed enough biscuits."

The morning drifted into lunchtime in this vein, briefly side-tracked by the emergence of Rose's granddad, and then by the arrival of Scorpius's curmudgeonly screech owl. He was much better behaved today, either by dint of a lack of urgency from his master, or Molly's absence. Rose retreated into the living room, scanning the polite, though short, message.

She chewed on her lower lip. She wasn't sure if seeing Scorpius again would help her sift through her thoughts, or serve to make her more muddled.

But there was only one way to find out.

"Nana," she began, sourcing some owl treats before the bird decided to take a chunk of flesh as recompense for the delayed response. "Would it be all right if I had a friend round for dinner?"

\--

The problem with not giving someone a set time to arrive was the element of surprise, Rose determined, as her eyes flicked to the doorway again. How was she to know if Scorpius was lost, or had been taken unwell, or simply decided not to come?

Maddy, oblivious, gave Rose a wide smile as she continued scribbling on her easel - oh, hell, actually _on her easel_ rather than the piece of parchment affixed to it. Rose fumbled for her wand and vanished the offending marks, at which point Maddy burst into noisy sobs.

"Hey, it's okay," Rose soothed ineffectually, kneeling by the side of the easel. "It looks much nicer if you draw on the parchment, that's all."

It did no good; Maddy would not be reasoned with. Rose didn't think she'd been so eager to see anybody as she was to see Victoire right that moment, as her cousin swept in and plucked Maddy up from the floor. "Oh, madam, such a racket from such a little lady!"

"It was the easel." Rose rubbed her head, thinking it might have been easier to let Maddy continue defacing the Weasley family toys.

"She's all right, really," Victoire said and, typically, Maddy had resumed her usual good spirits now that she was able to tug her mother's hair. "A little overtired. Say, madam, how about you and I go and see what Nana is up to in the kitchen, and we'll leave Rosie to her dashing visitor, hmm?"

Rose whipped around to find Scorpius leaning against the door-frame, smirking for all he was worth.

"I - hi."

"Hi," he mimicked in a breathy falsetto, moving to crouch down next to her. "That's all you've got to say for yourself, when you've been making children cry?"

Her chest had tightened at his first words, thinking he was going to hold her accountable for running away from her problems, but he surprised a laugh out of her instead. "Just the one child."

"I guess that makes it okay, then."

It was a little much, the way he was searching her face, so she turned away and pulled a cushion from the sofa onto her lap, picking at the fringing. "It's not - I know things might have looked serious last night, but it's not, not exactly. I think I'm being overdramatic."

"My speciality," he said, nudging her gently. "Look, you don't have to tell me anything, or we can go over every minute of our separation. I, for example, had to eat breakfast at home like a savage."

"Maybe later." She looked over at him then, and almost felt like following Maddy into tears. Hopefully figuring out what to do with her life now wasn't so insurmountable. 

It was funny having Scorpius there in her treasured grandparents' house. His neat facade was the antithesis of the Burrow, but he seemed to fit here as well as he did anywhere. It was odd, if only for how extremely normal it seemed.

That was a lot to think about, so instead Rose looked for something else to focus on. "I know you said you're not great with warming charms, but there's really no need to have your hat on indoors. The house is heated." She leaned across and plucked the woollen hat from his head - and burst out laughing.

Scorpius's whole face turned pink under her scrutiny. "Don't, I already know what I look like."

"Is this because I invited you here? Scorpius, you know there's no actual requirement to have ginger hair in the Weasley household, right? Otherwise half of us would never get in the door."

He grinned at her, scrubbing a hand through his hair in the apparent hope that rearranging it would dim its luminous shade (it didn't). "Oh, shut it. I already tried several spells, but nothing seems to shift. I _suspect_ one of the kids was being teased for his hair colour, because sometime in the mid-afternoon, all my class looked like they'd stuck traffic cones on their heads."

"Suits you."

She reached up to flatten part of his hair, and it seemed natural to continue and lean in.

But Scorpius didn't follow suit. Instead, his eyes were wide and fixed on her mouth; she was close enough that his soft exhale brushed her face. He cupped her cheek in one hand, sweeping his thumb under the hinge of her jaw, holding her in place.

It felt strangely intimate, this suspended moment where everything seemed tangled in her chest. Her fears and anger about Molly receded to a dull ache and, briefly, all she could think was _Scorpius, Scorpius, Scorpius_.

"Your grandmother is calling for us," he mumbled, looking about as disinclined to move as she felt.

All of a sudden, Rose blinked and came back to herself, realising her grandparents were scant feet away. He could probably feel her face burning under his fingertips. "Yes - of course. Yes."

\--

Any nerves Rose might have had about introducing Scorpius to her family were quashed as it dawned on her that Albus had already taken care of this for her some years ago. Scorpius shot her a knowing wink as Nana embraced him like a long-lost grandchild, exclaiming over the state of his hair. Apart from Victoire kicking Rose under the table, there was no awkwardness or pointed comments about _boyfriends_. It was nice. Easy, in a way she'd never thought time with Scorpius could be.

Molly's unexpected bombshell even got Rose out of washing up duties. She and Scorpius were ushered outside with their coats, an assortment of knitted garments for warmth, and the assurance that the River Otter was lovely this time of year.

They'd only been walking a few minutes before she blurted it out. "Molly's leaving me for a potions apprenticeship in a month. Two weeks if I can get my shit together by then."

His exhale came in a visible puff of air. "Fuck the walk. Let's sit down here on the bank and do our best not to freeze to death."

Scorpius had been underplaying his warming charm prowess, Rose discovered to some relief, enough so that he spread that expensive cloak out to give them something to sit on other than frozen ground. She added a mild Muggle-Repelling Charm as they both settled, figuring it couldn't hurt.

"Okay, start from the beginning."

She shrugged, realising maybe she did owe Molly a chance to explain herself. "That's it. Her dad never wanted her to work at the bakery, and apparently she doesn't want that either."

"'Apparently'?" he asked, nudging her with his knee. "Tell me to back off whenever you want to, but if you're reconfiguring your life, it's best not to work off 'apparently'."

"I don't want to talk to her right now," she said, giving voice to the ugly part of her which felt betrayed by Molly's actions.

Scorpius nodded. He was sitting upright, hands clasped in his lap, giving her his undivided attention. It was undeniably attractive, and difficult to retain her train of thought. "That's understandable."

"Either I close entirely, close the shopfront and go back to my Owl service, or I hire somebody else."

"You could continue as a patisserie?" Scorpius suggested, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Keep me in pastries for all my days."

"Truly, your selflessness is appreciated." Suddenly exhausted, Rose lay down on her front, burying her face in her arms. After a moment, she felt him follow, very aware that there was no more than two inches between them.

He cleared his throat, and she tensed in anticipation of his judgement. With her face hidden, it was harder to gauge what he might be thinking, and harder still to consider that it might not be favourable. "Okay. You have your options. But how do you feel about it?"

Rose's breath caught, and she pressed her face into the crook of her elbow until it had steadied. It was, in truth, the question she had looked to avoid. How did she feel about Molly wanting to leave the bakery? She'd been trying so desperately not to focus on it, it was hard to say. "It doesn't feel good," she mumbled eventually, lifting her chin enough to settle it on her forearm, though addressing her sleeve more than Scorpius. "I wasn't expecting it, and I can't help feeling like if I'd done something better, it would all be okay? I knew she hated the customer service part, and I still made her do it."

"I think you know you can't make Miss Molly do anything she doesn't want to. Remember that you also need to figure out what _you_ want to do. You're pretty special, Miss Weasley."

Rose closed her eyes, letting the words sink in. "I need to talk to Molly, don't I?"

She felt more than saw his shoulder shrug against hers. "Your call. It might help."

It probably wasn't what he'd intended, but Rose heard 'it might not'. She chewed her lip, feeling the onset of a headache in her temples. "What would you do?"

"I'd go back and bake. I'd make my favourite dish, and I'd let that guide me, rather than some arrogant toad of a boy."

Rose grinned, shifting so she was facing Scorpius. "I think you look more like a cockerel than a toad right now." She sifted her fingers through the front strands of his hair, still visible under his hat.

If he had been a bird, his feathers would likely have puffed up at that point. "Ugh, you wretch. I forgot about that. I'm half-tempted to keep my hair as it is in solidarity, but I suspect that would make me look like I wasn't as good a wizard as my students' parents, and I might lose the class in fits of giggles. Things like this are always funnier when they happen to your stinky teachers."

She was smiling as they locked gazes, somehow more intense at this distance and angle, with her hand in his hair.

Scorpius caught her fingers in his, and she felt that increasingly familiar buzz at the skin-on-skin contact. The kiss happened slowly, cautious at first, and then all at once, as he knitted his fingers through her hair, and somehow she was on top of him, feeling like she was burning from the outside in. 

Those almost kisses had stoked something within her, something that made her fingers bold. Her cardigan was disposed of with ease, her top shucked up, Scorpius was pressing increasingly frantic kisses along her jawline...

The Warming Charm expired with a 'pop', and the reappearance of the winter air was as good as a cold shower. They fell apart with a gasp, Rose huddling her shoulders as she fumbled for her wand to re-cast the charm.

The magic was gone, so to speak. She couldn't quite meet his eyes; couldn't reconcile the Scorpius and Rose of seconds ago to this awkward pair.

"Sorry," he said, voice strained. "Told you I wasn't great at Warming Charms. Your, er, grandmother will probably be wondering where we got to."

"Scorpius," Rose said hurriedly, placing a hand on his upper arm to stop him. "Just a minute. I think - there's a lot going on right now."

He hung her cardigan around her shoulders, fingers lingering briefly on her collarbone, half-smiling. "An excellent point, Miss Rose."

"And I think it would be best if I sorted that part of my life out before I gave attention to anything… else. It wouldn't be fair on you."

Scorpius paused, and she stepped off his cloak to allow him to gather it from the ground. It was crumpled and covered in dried leaves, but he wrapped it around himself nevertheless. "Okay. In the least self-pitying way possible, I agree. It's all gone a little fast." He tugged his hat down again, masking the few luminous orange hairs which had escaped. "Well. I'll wait for you to be in touch, I guess?"

For a moment, she contemplated going back on her word - just Apparating the two of them back to hers, and letting things happen the way they obviously both wanted. But, circumstances had changed since their date, and failing to acknowledge that wouldn't help either of them. "Thank you."

She thought that might be it, but he pulled off his borrowed Weasley jumper, evidently deciding against going back to the Burrow with her. "Take all the time you need."

\--

It would have been too much to talk to Molly immediately after all that. Rose returned to the bakery, finding with some relief that the kitchen was unoccupied. 

She washed her hands, mentally going over a few recipes in her head. Scorpius had recommended her favourite, but she was simply too worn out for anything intricate.

Time for an old staple.

Rose was on autopilot, heating the chocolate, stirring the caramel, and it wasn't until Molly cleared her throat that she was aware of the adjoining door even opening.

"You're back, then."

Typically, Rose would use magic for any whisking, but today she felt like doing everything by hand. She didn't acknowledge the intrusion, but Molly padded across the room anyway, feet bare and wearing her comfiest clothing. 

They worked side by side for a moment, Molly mixing the flour and cocoa, and then Rose snatched the bowl from her, sieve in hand. Molly relinquished without protest, and somehow that was worse. She retreated after that, summoning the tray from afar, and waiting over by the stools until Rose had placed the tray in the heated oven.

"Brownies?"

"Just felt like it," Rose mumbled, taking the vacant stool and placing her head in her hands. 

"Are you ready to talk about it?"

Rose stared down at the wooden table, weighing things up in her mind. She was suddenly aware that it had only been two days since Scorpius had brought her the pasta salad at this very spot.

She shook her head, and Molly left.

\--

Silence pervaded the bakery the following morning, which was starting to feel more and more like a dead-weight. As usual, Rose had prepared everything the previous night, so it was mostly a case of going through the motions, but they'd never done it like this before. It was enough to make her wish she'd accepted Molly's offer to talk the previous night, but neither seemed able to make the first move today.

Scorpius didn't show at 8.35, and it stung even though she expected it. She would be grateful later that he wasn't trying to pressure her, but for now, she just wanted to see him and to feel a little better even for a moment.

The atmosphere got steadily poorer throughout the morning. Every silent, unaccompanied tray from the back worsened her mood, until the customers started commenting on it. It was awful, too, to know that the intercom was carrying the voices back to Molly. After the third such comment, she disabled the intercom.

Things came to a head right after the lunchtime rush. Rose took advantage of a lull in customers to duck back and collect a few more muffins, when a cheese roll came sailing past her head.

"What the fuck?"

"Oh, she speaks!" Molly mocked, her brown eyes snapping with anger. "Didn't speak last night, did you? Didn't bother to ask me before you used all that caramel I'd been saving."

The brownies. Rose hadn't even eaten them in the end, just left them under a stasis charm, and they were even now sitting on display. She'd christened them 'Bitter Brownies', but only in her head. Even in her mood, she could see that wasn't the best sales technique. "Right. Because I'm meant to know everything that's going on in your head, when one minute you seem fine and the next you can't get out of here quickly enough."

Molly set her mouth mulishly, and Rose Summoned the tray of muffins before she gave voice to any of the pettier comments that had floated around her head through the course of the morning. She closed the door behind her, and neither opened it for the rest of the work day, even though the biscuit tray was reduced to crumbs. The thought of even going near Molly made Rose feel physically unwell, so she blamed the absence on a fictional sickness, and was grateful that the intercom was still frozen.

Rose occupied herself by drafting a letter to Scorpius, resulting in so many crossings out, it looked more like a sketch of a zebra crossing. She tossed the sheet aside and started a new one, headed 'Business Plan'.

It was still otherwise blank when the clock turned five, and she locked the door.

Time to face the music. She'd had her time to breathe and rage about it, and the longer she left it, the worse it would get. Things had never been so bad between her and Molly - between any of her cousins - before. She swallowed, hard. It would be up to her to make the first move. Gingerly, she laid her hand on the adjoining door, and pushed it open, alert for any food missiles.

There were none. Molly sat on the step leading up to their flat and suddenly, all Rose's anger faded.

"All right," Rose said quietly, watching Molly cross her arms over her chest. "Let's talk." She blew her cheeks out, and decided to cut to the chase. "I guess what's worrying me most is that I feel as though I might have pushed you into all this. Maybe if I hadn't been waiting for you, you could have done your apprenticeship right out of Hogwarts."

"Oh, Rosie." Molly's face crumpled. "No, I wanted to do it then - but it doesn't feel like me any longer. I don't like the customers, sometimes I think I'm going to go mad if I make anymore croissants, and I really, really hate the shop bell."

Rose pressed her fingers to her mouth, growing surer with every word that Molly uttered that Rose _was_ still in the right profession. She enjoyed chatting with the customers, found a simple sort of satisfaction in shaping the chilled dough every morning to turn out perfectly formed croissants, but the bell - the bell. 

She couldn't help it. She burst out laughing.

Molly looked startled for a moment, before her mouth began curling tentatively at the edges.

"We'll change the bell in the morning." Rose rubbed her eyes, wondering if she should take a nap before preparing for the next day. "I don't know what I'm going to do about the rest of it, but I'll work something out."

Molly launched herself at Rose and caught her up in a fierce hug, muttering a mess of apologies all the while. Rose closed her eyes and held her cousin close, feeling calmer than she had in days.

\--

Reconciling with Molly gave Rose the clear head space she needed to think about what she actually wanted to do with the bakery. Perhaps there was also the fact that she was continuing to keep her distance from Scorpius, for the time being. 

At Molly's suggestion, Nana stepped in to help with the cooking side of things, and Aunt Audrey with the customer service front. Molly, therefore, had time to plan for her apprenticeship, and Rose time to experiment.

"I think you might have found your calling," Nana murmured, placing her hands on Rose's shoulders.

Rose grinned at her, feeling as though she might burst with pride as they stood in front of her day's work. "I think so, too. I can't get the frog to hop on all the lily pads yet, but hopefully it's just a matter of time."

Impulsively, she flung her arms around Nana, very aware that she wouldn't have had the freedom to concentrate on herself without Nana's help.

Nana patted her hair, tightening the embrace for a moment. "There now, Rosie. You'll get there. Now, I'd be best popping back, and leaving you young ones to it. Your granddad will send out a search party for me shortly."

Frowning at her, Rose pulled away to find Scorpius standing in the doorway, eyes warm as he observed her. 

"How on earth do you manage to sneak up on me all the time?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips. 

Nana chuckled and made her escape. Probably for the best, Rose reflected, given the rush of affection she felt as Scorpius sauntered across the room, stopping to peer over her shoulder at her lily pad cake.

"You invited me this morning, remember? You're too used to that shop bell announcing all my comings and goings. No-" he placed a finger over her lips "-you aren't going to suggest that you get me a collar with a bell."

She closed her mouth, swallowing tightly.

His proximity was overwhelming in the best kind of way, but he didn't seem inclined to continue those feverish kisses they'd shared on the bank of the River Otter. She wasn't disappointed (she _wasn't_ ), because it meant she could explain the workings of her cake to him. "... And the parent can activate the charm, and the frog will hop around each of the pads, and settle on this one - I thought I could do a pad for each year of age?"

Scorpius crouched to watch the progression of the frog at eye-level - Rose wondered if this was a habit he'd picked up from the school. "I like it," he said thoughtfully. "I'd say you should make a gift of it to your cousin Lily, but I'm not sure you'd be able to fit all the necessary pads on it."

She'd spent so much time over the past week daydreaming about kissing him that she'd forgotten what good company he could be; she laughed now, giving him a gentle nudge with her elbow. "I'd say clearly _you've_ given up collecting lily pads, but that's no reason to take the rest of us down with you."

He got back to his feet and smirked at her, dusting his hands - out of habit rather than necessity, she hoped. "All right, so, you made a cake. Are you going to put me out of my misery and let me know what you decided?"

She gave him a very obvious once-over, cheeks heating even as she did so. "You don't look very miserable, if you don't mind me saying, Mister Malfoy. Hold on." She wagged a finger in the air, stopping whatever was on the tip of his tongue in its tracks, and she turned to pick up a box on the counter. "We made this for you. One bite, and then I'll tell you everything."

Impossibly, Scorpius's eyes softened further, and Rose nearly snatched the box back out of his hands. She steeled herself, however, just, as he lifted the cupcake out.

"It's called Scorpius Cake," she explained, watching as he obediently took a bite.

"It's crunchy," he commented, eyebrows pulling together.

A delicious glee filled her, and she hugged her arms to herself, trying to dampen her smile. "That'll be the scorpions."

In the split second it took for his face to fill with horror, Rose wished she had a camera.

"Sco- scorpions. Right."

"That's why it's a Scorpius Cake. Designed with you in mind."

Scorpius had control over his expressions once more, though he still looked askance at the box as he set it aside. "I, er, was named after a constellation. Not - not an arachnid."

She snapped her fingers, lips quivering. "Oh, how embarrassing. But, you must admit, it would be rather difficult to fit a constellation into a cupcake. Far easier to chop up dried scorpions. Molly was most helpful, I have to say."

"Shocking," Scorpius muttered, running his tongue over his teeth, stilling the moment things clicked. Rose clasped her hands behind her back, pinching the delicate skin on her left wrist between her right thumb and forefinger in an effort not to laugh. This was why she was never usually enlisted in pranks.

He leaned against the worktop, using the strings of her apron to tug her closer. "I didn't get a chance to greet you properly," he murmured, lowering his lashes whilst he ostensibly concentrated his attention on the apron's ties. "Did I mention how much I like watching you at work? You're so… assured here."

"I - what?" Rose asked, a little dazed, a lot focused on Scorpius's mouth and his fingers which were working their way up her spine.

Scorpius placed the lightest of kisses on her lips, barely brushing before drawing back to say, "I missed you. I know it was only a week, and I really did want to give you your space, but I missed you anyway."

Rose grinned in a foolish sort of way. "I missed you, too. Even when you're not around, you're very… distracting."

He pushed his lower lip out in a pout. "I was so sure you were about to tell me how devastatingly handsome I am."

"Stop talking," Rose instructed, half-gasping into his mouth as he showed her how much more agreeably his mouth could be occupied. He deepened the kiss, hands tangling in her hair, but all too soon pulled away again.

She stayed where she was, her mind reeling a little, though now aware enough to recognise that they hadn't actually removed her apron, and she would be getting flour all down his front. It was hard to care with the way he was playing with the ends of her hair.

"So," he drawled, looking remarkably pleased with himself. "I guess I'm not the only one who just tasted mashed-up scorpion."

Fondness swept through Rose, and she grinned as she fiddled with the collar of his shirt. "That was part of my creepy-crawly cupcake line. Imitation insects."

"Imitation." Scorpius's face puckered. "That wasn't something you could have mentioned earlier?"

"And miss the look on your face?" Rose teased. "You're going to make the most excellent taster for my new cake shop. If I can feed you theoretical scorpions, seven hundred cupcakes should be a, well, a piece of cake."

Instead of groaning at the pun as she had half-expected, he unentangled her fingers from his shirt, and planted a kiss on her knuckles. "That's your decision? Cake shop?"

She nodded, watching as he turned her hand over to place another kiss on her palm. Some of the flour dusting his jumper was visible now, but he (probably) wouldn't mind. She felt bizarrely content that he would be supportive, as though she could have expressed her intention to start a bakery based solely on scorpion flour, and he would have found a way to be happy for her.

She still needed to ask, "Good decision?"

"Good decision."

\--

_Epilogue_

"If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to bump me off."

"What makes you think you know better?"

There was a silence, and Rose looked up from where she was smoothing her last layer of the Goyle birthday cake. Scorpius appeared lost in thought, and then he snapped his fingers, legs resuming their swinging. "That is an excellent point. I conclude that you are trying to bump me off."

She grinned, returning her attention to the cake. "If I were doing that, I wouldn't exactly be going myself, would I?"

"You're related to him. You must have some kind of inbuilt immunity to his inedible abominations. I bet you and Molly took all the culinary prowess in your family. Merlin only knows what Hugo's food tastes like."

"Hugo doesn't even know what Hugo's food tastes like," Rose replied absently, using her spatula to trim away excess pieces at the base of the cake. "It's one of life's great mysteries. Okay, I think I'm done here. I'll arrange them in the morning, and put the peacock on top."

"Perfect," Scorpius pronounced, but that was more the result of his having sat waiting for her for half-an-hour. "Have you stopped regretting the commission?"

Rose's smile was tinged with guilt. She'd been cursing the commission all the way along, since it had turned out to be the most immensely fiddly cake of her life. Each tail feather had to be independently layered, and the (three!) cakes underneath the bird had to fit seamlessly. And the child was four. And Rose had yet to work out how the bird was going to move in a 'lifelike but elegant' manner.

But, Scorpius had been the one to win her this commission, and it would likely be followed by others as his social circle showed their support of his girlfriend's company. 'Charming Cakes' was starting to take off in a way that suggested she would either have to close the cake shop and work off commissions, or give the running of it over entirely to her staff.

Aunt Daphne was even threatening to commission a cake for the opening of her nightclub, and Rose was alternately thrilled and terrified by the potential brief.

"Thank you."

"You are welcome. Your cousin's dinner is not the way to make it up to me, just so you know."

Rose wiped her hands off on a towel, and moved to fit herself in between his legs. It was a bad move; he secured her in place by tucking his feet behind her. They were almost certainly going to be late, but he could have this moment. Maybe it would be some comfort through the meal.

"Al says you'd have been banned after the last one if we hadn't been dating."

His face was so comically dismayed that she couldn't help but giggle. "It's called a _roast_ , not a _burn-everything-to-a-crisp_. I knew you'd be my downfall, Weasley. There's only one thing for it - we're going to have to host the next one, and shame him so he never lifts a kitchen utensil again."

A flutter ran through her, as it did every time Scorpius suggested something domestic like this. It was ridiculous, but then, he'd only moved in a month back (explaining, straight-faced, that it would half his commute). "Great. Let's go lay down the gauntlet."

He groaned, but in time, was persuaded to slide off the tabletop.

She untied her apron, thinking with pleasure of how her assistants would be there in the morning to open for her, and how unexpectedly relieving it was to have help. She even got full days off, now, and Scorpius had blacked out a whole week in her work calendar, though he'd yet to tell her why.

Molly, too, was happier, starting to flourish under the guidance of Mr. Jiggers. Sometimes, Rose missed their routines, and Molly's acerbic commentary, but she knew everything had worked out for the best.

And at least Molly would be there tonight, probably competing with Scorpius for Most Grouchy. 

Scorpius had yet to find out, of course. It was good to keep some things a surprise in a relationship.


End file.
